


coming undone

by shepherd



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Body Image, M/M, Masturbation, Self Confidence Issues, Sex Toys, Sexual Fantasy, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:01:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22563673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shepherd/pseuds/shepherd
Summary: Cor goes it solo.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	coming undone

**Author's Note:**

> HEY so i promised this a day or two ago and i trimmed it down massively so i'm sorry but I Did My Best while suffering massively from Cor Loving Disease

Over the past three decades of getting himself off, Cor had finally been able to come to terms with the fact that he was picky. Dreadfully so, to incapacitating lengths, but Cor couldn’t shake the habit free.

He had been half hard since the first touch of morning light. A long uninterrupted nights rest was rare for him and it only seemed appropriate he be plagued in the morning with his wanting. A rare dream still lingered. Half forgotten even as he grunted and stretched, the phantom lover he had cherished was long gone.

Ignoring his needs had never been an easy talk to begin with. Cor rose from his bed and slunk silently into his daily hot shower, focusing on lathering himself in the quiet while still enjoying the peaceful and rhythmical sounds of water drumming against the tile. The bubbles washing away and circling the drains kept his mind off more pressing matters. But his arousal only became an all-encompassing ache – a need that lingered, unquenchable flames.

Perhaps he should shave. The lover in his dream had made no comment but their hands were steady against his broad chest, fingertips against his sparse dark hairs. Cor eyed his untouched razor – but he had been equally untouched for months, the sensation of a kiss against bare skin completely alien to him. It didn’t matter if his chest was smooth if he hadn’t stepped out with a partner in weeks. Cor knew there was no chance at all of taking a tumble on a rainy Thursday morning.

Now he was lost. With his cock in his hand and hair still dripping across his fresh sheets, lube spotty against his bare thighs, Cor tried to recall his faceless fantasy. Little came to him. Any old dream had playful hands and a low murmur. Cor reached for the colour of their hair, the warmth of their voice. He thought nothing of his responsibilities. His morning routine fell to the wayside as he languished in bed – spoiled brat that he had become.

Another routine took its place. Cor simply couldn’t be without noise. Nothing was set up to help him along – porn star moans were tacky and false to his ears, their performances grating on his last nerve. The dialogue alone curled his hair rather than his toes. It was pleasant enough to play faint music and Cor had no preference between the nonstop top hits to his personal playlists. It was only romantic ballds that made him cringe. As long as it numbed him Cor was content, pleased when it carried throughout his empty home, filling up every void room. That and the sunshine he let stream through the windows made it seem less cold, and his needs less pathetic.

Comfort was the next important thing – Cor’s frenetic days were hardly behind him yet but the impulsive urges had quietened. A lover sprawled over his desk was a beautiful thing. Cor being spread across it was even better until he considered how bad it would be for his back, how training would be impossible until the ache passed. Even his shower was solely reserved for quick, perfunctory strokes. The danger of slipping and falling was even less alluring when Cor recalled the warmth of his bed, new sheets and familiar scents. While he had never been the type to envelop his bed in pillows he permitted one – large and filled to the brim with downy feathers. It served two purposes well. Cor used it to cushion his occasionally sore back against the headrest, and on rarer occasions to prop up and angle his hips when he was blessed with rather particular company.

Today it settled beneath his hips. It was time finally for the calm of the morning and the thrill of arousal to take hold. In Cor’s firm hand he was wet and hard, every inch of him scalding hot. The hair that trailed down his tense belly was soaked with lingering shower water and his precome, and he let his thoughts drift away. They became concerned only with phantom hands and mouths. Cor recalled the scrape of an unkempt beard against his bared throat. Powerful muscles under soft skin, sweet kisses and rougher touches. Exactly how Cor liked to be treated. It was thrilling to imagine being pushed to his bed, presented the way they wanted him. It was so easy to lose himself within the fantast, the uneven rhythm of his own steady hand turning into something far greater.

Cor’s chosen lube was pleasantly and artificially warm. Another finicky expense. To him it was a luxury he had earned with his hard work, even if it wasn’t necessary. Bountiful precome helped slick his fingers all the way to his scarred knuckles. In his other hand his chosen – and favourite, though often it was hard to choose when they all fucked him so well – prostate massager waited, thoughtlessly flicked on and off. It buzzed hard in his hand.

He only indulged in his collection of toys in moments of rare privacy. There had been too many years of teenage moments stolen upon uncomfortable havens or in the shower after intense training. It was often his instructor’s dexterity and praise that made his need so pressing, but back then he needed to hurry. Now as he grew older it was hard to shake off that urge, the instinct to hide away and be done with it all. But Cor persevered and it was good now to spoil himself. To tease and prolong his pleasure, delay orgasm at the penultimate moment.

Cor rubbed his worn thumb firmly against the prominent pulsing vein, bare legs sliding across his soft sheets. The sun was brighter now and his room that much warmer.Cor allowed himself to feel it like never before.

Even all alone he smiled faintly. Basking, he stretched out like a cat. Parting his legs a little wider he leant his head back and delighted in the heat. Pleasure in the sunlight and his own touch arched throughout, heat lancing and promises of even more thrilling. He permitted his body to lax, tension leaving with each steady stroke.He moved languidly. There was no need to rush. There was all the time in the world to roll his hips upwards, to fuck his wet fist in the ways he loved best.

It had quickly become a mess. Lube smeared across his skin and the body hair had become tacky. Cor cared only for his own pleasure, the freedom to moan as loud as he liked. None were present to hear him though Cor wouldn’t have minded, provided the company was the proactive type. Goosebumps stood stark on his arms, thighs tensing and contracting hard. His hands were no longer his own as he permitted himself to slip further into faceless fantasies and Cor smeared lube around the tip of his cock, sliding against the sensitive sheath of his foreskin. It warmed within moments and Cor could pretend it was a merciless mouth, lips wet and warm, sucking softly at his tip while a rough hand stroked with confidence. A phantom laughed when Cor sighed, already utterly pliant. The thought of a lover teasing him was enough to drive him to despair.

Months of celibacy had plagued him. It was too long a time by far. Struggles of constant shift work, few days to himself and no friends to speak of outside of the Citadel lead to lonely nights. Cor worked often antisocial hours and sudden shifts, and late summons to the Citadel to cover absences or lapses of security were the death knell to any poor soul who had deluded themselves into any interest. It killed any interest from anyone who wanted a single long night with the Marshal, let alone something deeper with the man the lofty title swallowed. Relationships fizzled out in a matter of days but Cor’s desire was ceaseless. He needed to come just as any man did, needed his private escape.

After all else in his life had fallen to the wayside for King and country, Cor would never deny himself the simplicity of pleasure. If it had to be by his own hand, so be it.

Cor changed up his rhythm while his hand held himself tighter, thrusting his hips harder. Dropping his massager to one side he reached for his lube once more, uncapping it with a snap and letting a generous among drizzle freely along his cock, slicking his path. The warmth followed near instantaneously. It coated and heated his cock beautifully. After trying this brand once Cor hadn’t bothered looking elsewhere. If he wasn’t so desperately alone he could have stuck it in easily, sinking mercifully into a welcoming body while they pleaded for him, for his thick cock to fuck them deep, make them finally come. In his mind’s eye they would want him as sorely as Cor wanted them.

Grunting as a pulse of pleasure arched through him, Cor tossed the bottle aside. Fantasy would get him there as well as any toy. Hands squeezing his hips electrified him, nails upon his back. Cor called upon memories of temporary lovers. Those who touched his heart lingered too long, caused sour moods when the ecstasy of orgasm left him cold. Those who chanced across his bed would do.

His prosthetic arm was damn near useless. It was too cold for his newly sensitive skin and the memory of just how ruined the years had left him. Cor was loathe to expose someone he loved to the sight of the masses of scar tissue. Rather than take hold and squeeze they way he longed to he simply nudged at his balls, cradles them, relieved his tension just a fraction. They were drawn tight and thrilled to the brim. Heavy and vulnerable as always they made Cor hiss at his own fleeting touch.

Lube had trailed down his perineum, gathering just short of his hole and Cor moved thoughtlessly. It was easy to imagine a dedicated tongue laving him with affection, hands pushing up his knees to spread him out and Cor played along. Without a second thought he shifted to expose himself to the emptiness of his bedroom.

It was easy to hold the position. The burn it left once he was done made him feel all the better. Cor slicked a finger well with precome, cock jumping at the touch. He reached beneath his distractingly aching balls to caress his entrance in circular motions. Cock pulsing in response it still drenched Cor’s faithful hand. The heat of his own flesh was stifling. Cor focused on rubbing, sometimes pressing hard enough for his breath to catch and the furl of softened skin to give way. The movement of his hips had become unbearable upon contact. It was ruinous to be caught between the pressure of his fingers or the way he teased his cock. Yet Cor couldn’t bear to stop, or even simply slow.

Gradually he gave way. His wet finger slipped inside to the first knuckle. Just enough to feel his own tightness and Cor moaned helplessly over the music. He alternated the movement of his ceaseless hips, fucking into his hand and then into himself. But it soon wasn’t enough, despite Cor’s desperately throbbing cock, curving up towards his heaving stomach.

He withdrew. Releasing himself and drawing out his finger he cursed harshly. Leaving his flushed, heavy cock to beg for attention between his legs he snatched up his massager again. It was a matter of seconds to cover it in lube – Cor found himself holding his breath as he worked, the weight of the long and thick plastic intimately familiar in both his hand and inside him. Soon the plastic gleamed and Cor slicked his fingers for good measure.

It was easy to press inside. For the moment he neglected his cock and the thrill that it gave to deny himself at his weakest moment was euphoric. One finger slipped inside first and Cor swore his body sang, overtaken by lust **.** Impatiently he drummed the massager against his thigh. Cor stretched himself with no practicality, slipping in another finger too quickly to enjoy the burn it inspired. A gentle hiss of air escaped his teeth.

His music and all other sounds fled. There was nothing but Cor and the thrumming vibration as he brought the massager to his cock finally, anticipation building within. Automatically his hips jolted and he helplessly thrust **as** the vibrations coursed through him, cock jumping and twitching in delighted agony. Cor sank both fingers deep in response and crooked them hard, knuckles pressing against the skin of his ass, blood aflame in response. He stroked a gentle and repetitive pattern from root to tip and could have wept.

Orgasm drew tantalisingly close. It was torture to his senses but Cor clung to it and it had truly been too long. It showed in how he lost all power over himself. His hips lost all their control and he groaned long and low, swearing, grunting – and at the very last moment, before he teetered over the edge too soon, he stopped. Pulling the massager away and his fingers free he ripped the promise away.

It killed him. Cor’s stomach dropped as his body howled curses, scrambling for the peace that his release gave before it slipped away. From his temple to his nipples his skin was flushed a deep red. He wanted nothing more than to stroke himself, fuck himself to completion. Instead he waited, half writhing in face of the aching loss and toes curling hard. An uncomfortable feeling settled into his guts. The sensation of loss, the fading away. His body strained and his thoughtlessly left uncapped bottle of lube was slowly ruining his sheets. Cor didn’t even notice.

When the awful and perfect moment finally passed Cor only breathed. He gave it another minute just to savour the agony of denial. The music droned on endlessly and the sun had truly emerged in earnest, light dappled leaves rustled by the wind outside his window. He took a long inhale only to slowly release it, then wrapped a hand around his base, thumb once again set firmly on his pulse. Calmly he set his massager against himself to finally push steadily inside.

At first the head slipped inside like it meant nothing at all. Cor’s breath caught at the sensation, toy delightfully solid and thicker than most. His legs drew up closer yet and his inner walls flexed around the steadily increasing pressure, bringing enough pleasure for Cor to even whine low in his throat and close his eyes. He drew it out to push it back inside, deeper this time, and his inhale caught high in his chest. Belly tense, face aflame he panted until the toy was finally nestled within.

Against the pillow Cor’s hips adjusted. He made sure his shoulders were comfortably settled. His skin prickled and his cock was aflame, a few strokes barely enough to get the edge off the penetration. The thick head gave way to a slimmer build but still it ached, pleasantly, though Cor still wished it was more. The heavy weight of another man, someone to press him down and give him all that he had been yearning for.

Instead Cor settled for unfeeling plastic nudging the sensitive parts tucked away, the vibrator perfect already and after a moment’s hesitation Cor flipped onto his knees. To lie face down made it easier to pretend he wasn’t entirely alone and he knew all too well the angle was far more delicious.

Cor’s thumb teased over the switch. He nuzzled his face into the pillow and breathed steadily. Then he brought it to life.

The pulse seemed to run through his bones. Cor’s frame jerked at the deep thrum and the direct pressure. His dry mouth formed nothing. A rattling exhale forced itself free and already he was desperate to rut his hard cock against his sheets until he ruined them with come. Instead he relieved the worst of the tension by inching the toy back again.

It was one of his more intense vibrators and it agonised his vulnerable insides. Cor wanted it to pulverise him. Cor wanted it to ruin him, strip him raw. But he took his time, moving gentle and slow, patiently and shallowly thrusting inside to prolong his torture. The tip of his cock caught in his bedsheets, hot against the cool fabric. It drenched them in moments. Sighing in satisfaction that came so rarely he rolled his hips against them, letting himself dare to dream he had an enraptured audience.

They would watch, but not stand idle for long. Cor would make sure of that.

 _Fuck,_ he thought, mouth too dry to manage words. Licking his lips was an exercise in futility. _Fuck, fuck_ as he let the toy inch deeper. Out his control his legs trembled, chest heaving. Pleasure pulled his body as taut as a bow string and desire fogged his mind. Moans were muffled and hands clumsy. His flesh and blood hand wrapped around his desperate self and he took his massager deeper, deep enough to chance his prostate – and Cor yelled, like he had been gutted.

It was relentless. Still Cor drew back just enough to surge and strike again. It was enticing and wonderful enough to make him come and still he clung on. The hand between his legs picked up the pace, agitating sensitive flesh. Both worked in tandem. Cor’s body locked up, every part of him on edge.

All the while he entertained his fantasy. In his mind’s eye it was simple. Someone who didn’t mind the mess that had become of Cor’s body, could look past the prosthetic and the mound of scars to watch with hunger. It could be their hands tormenting him, a blissfully hot cock spearing him open. Cor could have blubbered at the thought had he been capable. Hot hands would guide his hips. Maybe they would even leave bruises as a reminder. Perhaps it would still be a toy inside after all, one they had chosen together, and Cor could suck them instead and prove himself worthy, good enough to please. Cor hadn’t come by another hand in so long and he wanted it more than anything ever before.

The massager struck dead on.

The end was immediate. Everything erupted – a cry from Cor’s throat, pleasure along his spine. Jerking himself harder and faster Cor felt his orgasm make a mess of anything within reach. No doubt he would need another, longer shower, soak off his weaknesses. Hot spend slicked his fingers with each overwhelming pulse and Cor swore and shook the whole way through. Around the toy he clenched tight and the vibrations pushed him through, milking him dry.

His climax seemed to last forever, before finally reaching a crescendo and oversensitivity prickling his skin.

Still he pushed himself to his absolute limit, until oversensitivity made sure his touch became more than merely the threat of pain. Only then did he let go, heaving and panting, fumbling to switch off his insistent toy. Then he lay sated, melting into nothingness.

He couldn’t remain still and undisturbed for long. Pressing his face against the sheets quickly became uncomfortable. With a grunt he rolled his exhausted body onto its back and freely splayed his legs wide. It was difficult to avoid the wide spreading wet spot and he didn’t care what lingered upon his thighs. The radio filled the room as the pounding rush of blood began to ease and it was strange to hear something other than the buzzing and made the room seem empty.

With time his heart rate slowed. His breaths came easier, quieter but the pleasure remained and his limbs were barely responsive. Cor thoughtlessly wiped his hands off in his expensive sheets. Now the mess upon his hips was disgusting, come and lube mixed together. His cock had softened, flagging like the rest of him, and he desperately needed another shower. As much as he pretended otherwise a long day awaited him, and he could hardly spend it panting like an animal in bed and drenched in his own mess.

Cor had the energy for none of it. It was all he could do to tilt up his head as if for a kiss in reward, in affection, for love. For the first time in weeks there was a pleasant numbness to his body. It was a herculean effort to reach for and remove the massager, which he tossed thoughtlessly onto the towel he had left abandoned. Later, he thought. It was time to enjoy his hard-earned peace and quiet.

And perhaps if that itch came back, desperate to be scratched – Cor would be ready to sate it again and again.


End file.
